April Fool

The newsletter from my son's school came home today. In it, I was singled out by the principal for my contributions to this year's variety show. In her "shout-outs" she acknowledged my organization skills as well as being "an all-around funny guy." Considering the alternative, I guess that I should be pleased, since it would be much worse to be picked out of the crowd for being "not-so-funny".
Still, it struck me once again that carry this legacy around with me. I come from a pretty funny family. My wife and son are pretty funny too. Even my dog can be quite amusing, on a full stomach anyway. Do I feel a burden to be the life of the party? Sometimes. Do I get uncomfortable in a room full of straight lines? You bet I do. Being a funny guy is my chosen form of expression. Given the choice between thoughtful and amusing, I will almost always aim for the funnybone. It is a weakness.
This is never more apparent than when friends bring me bad news. I feel it is my responsibility to cheer them up. Whether they want me to or not. I know that it can be aggravating, and it usually ends up amusing no one, in spite of my best efforts, but it continues to be my modus operandi. Even my most ardent attempts at sincerity sometimes miss the mark, primarily because of my hard-won reputation. Words seem to fall out of my head with a tinge of sarcasm or a wink of an eye.
Would I leave it all behind if I could? Would I become a sober-minded elocuter of high-minded ideals and leave the punch lines behind? I don't think I have that kind of self-control. I will continue to seek out vile puns and juvenile double entendre, to preserve my image as "all-around-funny-guy". The satisfaction I gain from this small distinction comes, from time to time, at the expense of my own humility, but for me that's always been a fair trade. And to my friends and family who have to suffer through my periodic lame attempts at humor, my deepest and most sincere apologies. As sincere as I can be, at any rate.